


Lady Edmund

by May_Ravenstaff



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, let marianne and hilda be happy, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-22 20:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/May_Ravenstaff/pseuds/May_Ravenstaff
Summary: Marianne struggles with memories of the war that still linger.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	Lady Edmund

She didn't remember breaking the window.

But the knife had left her hand at some point, and the crow laid on the sill, twitching in a death rattle. Its black feathers marred with still leaking blood.

The door behind her swung open. The old regal wood of the Edmund estate smashed into the wall, likely damaging it. She'd hear about that from her butler.

Hilda Valentine Goneril stood in the doorway, holding the hatchet she kept by her bed at all times. She wore a fancy nightgown, something shipped directly from Derdriu. But even without armor and hair a tangled mess, Hilda looked powerful.

Idly, Marianne was reminded why she fell in love with her.

"Marianne," breathed Hilda, walking to the window with the hatchet raised. She saw the bird, and looked back to her wife. "What…"

Marianne sank to her knees and Hilda had her arms wrapped around her in a second. "It was tapping the glass," she said. "It sounded just like Shambhala."

"The spell…" Hilda murmured.

She nodded.

" _Get that door open!" Claude shouted. "We can't let them escape!"_

_Byleth was caught up fighting an armored man on horseback. She heard Claude, but couldn't break for it._

_That left Hilda, next senior, to run at the door. It opened in front of her. A tall Agarthan stood in the frame, holding a hand aloft._

Tap. Tap. Tap.

_That was the only cue for all hell to break loose, like the wings of the Immaculate One buffeting them with sacred air._

_The ground shattered and from the cracks ethereal black smoke rose, caped in purple iridescence that burned Marianne's skin from feet away. She screamed._

_Then she saw Hilda falling to the ground._

_She screamed louder and raised her hand to cast._

"Marianne!" Hilda jolted her from the memory. "We're right here. Edmund, in your study. Shambhala was months ago, we're okay. You're here in my arms."

"The bird, I—"

A choked sob finally escaped from her. She buried her face in Hilda's shoulder and wept. Hilda rubbed her back slowly, just how Marianne liked it.

She didn't know how long she sat there, only broken from the reverie when Hilda asked, "Why were you here? We went to bed hours ago."

"Bad dream," Marianne whispered.

"About the war or…" Hilda's voice trailed off. Her wife always grew so sad when mentioning Marianne's depression. Marianne wanted nothing more than to wash away her sadness, the thought of her wife sad over _her_ a remnant of the Marianne who wanted nothing more than to die. Surely she didn't deserve that compassion.

But here she was, in Hilda's arms in the middle of the night after killing a bird she thought would kill her wife.

"The war," Marianne breathed. "The night Edelgard attacked. I…I couldn't find you in the battle. No one knew where you went, I thought you—"

"Shhh," Hilda said. She pulled Marianne in tighter. "That wasn't real. You and I didn't separate that entire battle."

She was right. They had shared their first kiss that morning, the kind shared out of fear of their last days approaching. Marianne had known that she was in love from that moment, though it took five years to admit it to Hilda.

Out of tragedy, bloomed joy. Or at least Claude had said something similar while he was mourning the loss of his beloved Byleth for the years she was missing.

He'd actually been a source of confidence for her. He'd listened to her blather on about Hilda and her confusion when the Sovereign Duke had much better things to be doing. He'd helped her understand love and what it meant.

She'd helped him understand grief, though he was no stranger to that. But misery loves company, and Marianne had been the embodiment of such thoughts.

They wrote to each other, as busy as their lives had become, telling each other of their wives. Marianne never thought she'd be here. Had she once been asked where she thought she'd be in five years, she'd have answered in the ground.

Not in her wife's arms.

Marianne pulled back and kissed Hilda lightly. "I want to bury it," she said.

Hilda glanced over her shoulder at the bird. "I'll bring it outside, you run and grab me a robe."

They split, each longing for the other's warmth already. Marianne grabbed them each something to shelter them against the cold, sparing a moment to giggle at Hilda walking outside the estate wearing next to nothing.

Hilda sometimes acted quicker than she thought. Marianne loved that about her, always following instinct and the right thing to do before common sense.

When she walked out on the Edmund grounds, they were serene except for a pink haired woman digging a pit while showing off far too much skin to be proper.

"You're an angel," Hilda said as she took the robe. "Hopefully I didn't flash any servants."

"Hopefully, because that's only for me to see." Marianne kissed her cheek.

Hilda kept digging. Marianne whispered prayers to the Goddess over the body of the crow. It had suffered in her negligence. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

"It's ready," Hilda said moments later. She hadn't lost her muscles from the war.

They buried the bird in silence, Marianne shedding a few more tears. Eventually, she said, "How do you do it?"

"Pardon?"

"You seem so well adjusted, so adapted from the war. I close my eyes and see bodies pierced on icicles of my making or Raphael screaming as I sew his chest back together. I can't get it out of my mind."

Hilda pulled her in close. "Marianne, I'm not much better off that you are. I feel listless laying around now. I wake up each morning before the sun rises, ready for Claude's strategy meeting or an Imperial ambush. I lay next to you in those hours remembering each time I almost lost you. It's why I go into the woods each day to chop firewood. I need that wartime normalcy."

Marianne hugged her tighter. "I had no idea, Hilda."

Her wife laughed, but it was hollow. "I guess it was one way to cure my love of lazing about. Every time I lay down, I hear Catherine's voice shouting at me that there's a war going on."

"Tell me the next time that happens. I want to help you relax." Marianne hated that fake smile on Hilda's face. Her wife deserved to be happy.

"Only if you wake me up after your dreams," Hilda countered.

Marianne nodded.

Hilda smiled, for real. "Byleth and Claude have this too. They just have a continent to run and are a bit busier."

"Perhaps I ought to ask my father for some things to keep us distracted," Marianne mused.

"Lady Edmund, trying to sign me up for more work? I guess this means I really love you." Hilda swept Marianne in a princess carry. They kissed.

"Now no more sadness for tonight. You and I have our night booked with cuddling in bed. Agreed?"

Marianne agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> I have zero problems being quarantined right now, but I know a lot of people struggle with not being to interact with the outside world. I hope this helps remind you that things always get better :)


End file.
